Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-04-06
on, his voice, earnest before. grew deeper

anu more pdsSiOudVc.
But if man be. as they call It, rising.
beginning to succeed in his profession,
with the prospect of this rising before him
of rising to a srug middle age and a
suburban villa. to fat commonplace wife
and parcel OF children; to prosperous
years of easy luxury. of ineffable dizziness.
to riches and responsibility; to an old age
when his bloated body shall be racked
with the pangs OF the govt, and the spare
shadow of what was his lntt llect be fit but
to grub Tor the garbage of after-dinner
stories; to an ungrieved-for death, fu
neral of many empty coaches, and
tombstone with many empty words; to
merited oblivion! 1t man be like this.
with this fair future before him. and yet
feel within him a longing for better
things. stirring to nObler deeds. would
YOU not think him right to fling the CON-
monplace certainty to the winds and face
the world empty handed, strong only in
the resolution to achievee Tell me. what
would you think of one such ?"
II should think" said Miss Norbury,
deliberately, "that he was great donkey"
He looked at her doubtfully. She had
leaned back little. so that her face was
in the shadow, and he could not see if she
were smiling. But he knew something of
the mocking, mischievous willfulness that
was inherent in her nature, and so was
not sobered. They were quiet alone. The
place seemed to have grown strangely
still, only the distant music ruffiing its
dead silence. He could hear his heart
throb and WAS conscious of grim wonder
at his own excitement. 1t was impossible
to stop. After a moments hesitation he
spoke again, his voice grown very low
and tremulous.
miss Norbury, was speaking of my
self-you must have guessed. 1t is 80
with me. You know what am--that |
am a solicitor. Yo1 do not know that
have other hopes-that it is my ambition.
my longing. to do some work, however
humble, in the great world of literature.
have no foolish estimate of myselt-no
vain idea that | am destined to leap into
sudden fame. But / know that | have
some slight gift, that some small thing |
can achieve. have not told my hopes 10
many people, because the world is
slow to believe that IA man can work out
side of the craft he has been trained to.
You will wonder why should have striv-
en- to tell it to yo1. have dared to do so
because with my dreams of purposeful
labor, of life nobly worked, is mingled
a tenderer hope. Because-I love YOU
She raised herself up and looked at him
with wondering eyes, but before she had
time to utter the words that were trem-
bling on her lips he went on:
Il have not known you long, but have
loved you since the first day | saw You.
That is more than year ago now. 1t was
in the theatre, and remember so we'll how
you came running on the stage in a shabby
black frock, laughing. with your hair un-
bound and falling in great waves over
your shoulders. You had grown into my
heart long before knew you, and | had
dreamed many fond dreams of how |
might come to meet you some day of what
happiness the world might have for me
then-God willing. And now, when the
time had come, | could not tell you of nv
love till had told You of myself, that
you might not altogether despise me as
mere moDey-gettlng machine, thing
without hope, without ambition. could
not ask you to share my life before had
told you what that life would be, that
hoped soon to cast aside the petty cares of
an ignoble calling and seek after higher
things. have told you all. There is
nothing more, but to say again that love
you. | love you" He was silent.
81 am very sorry" she said. VERY
very sorry"
'Don't say that Can you not give me
one grain of hopep know only too well
that there is little in me now that any wo-
man should love. know that it was fol-
ly tor me to press my commonplace love,
my crude aspirations, on you now that
haG better have waited till should have
done something that would lit me little
from the ruck of mediocrities and made
me less unworthy of you. But could
not wait in silence. knowing that success
might come too late "
"No. do not say any MORE" said Miss
Norbury. land forgive me tor having al
lowed YOU to say so much. But | could
not help it. You astonished me so much
and could not stop you.''
but will you not"
cit is useless. The truth is that YOU
have misunderstood me, and you. You
thought | was romantic, and ! thought
you weren't. thought you were just a
solicitor, and sensible, and like anybody
else. You know, you"
81 look it?" said the poet bitterly.